


lost in the stratosphere.

by steelatoms



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Crying, F/M, Grief/Mourning, I'm sad at this fic, Implied/Referenced Sex, Loss, Lots of Angst, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sam/Wanda friendship, reupload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15777954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelatoms/pseuds/steelatoms
Summary: Dying was a lot easier and quicker than Quill imagined  -- he had imagined suffering, his own body shutting down on him and leaving him in agony, as it had his mother and Yondu, but this?This was peaceful.--Follows on from the end of Infinity War.





	lost in the stratosphere.

**Author's Note:**

> Can Nikki write a happy fic? Nope. The answer is nope.

“Oh, man.”

 

Dying was a lot easier and quicker than Quill imagined  -- he had imagined suffering, his own body shutting down on him and leaving him in agony, as it had his mother and Yondu, but this?

 

This was peaceful.

 

As he crumbled to dust, Tony Stark’s horrified gaze upon him, he let himself think of Gamora.

 

His beautiful Gamora.

  
When he had found out about her death, his heart had been torn from his chest.  To be honest, he was sure that finding it out was the exact moment he died, and that this was some kind of fallout.

  
Thanos had won.  Half the universe, including him, was to die.

 

_Good,_ a dark, malicious part of him that remarkably sounded more like Ego than ever, echoed in his mind.

 

A life without Gamora wasn’t worth living.  He couldn’t help but think of her, her beautiful smile and how he had laughed the first time he had encouraged him to sing along with him, how he had cried with her during the more difficult times (mostly after Yondu’s death, where the pain had damn near killed him).

 

He thought of their first kiss, a quiet, stolen moment between two people who cared deeply as they had returned from a mission.  They had been working their not-so unspoken thing out together over the course of four years, loving each other with intensity so hard that it seemed impossible for things to go wrong.

 

He then thought of her begging him to kill her, whispering that she loved him, how his hand had shook on the trigger and how that was the last time he had seen her -- the last time he’d _ever_ see her.  He tried not to imagine her broken body, to remember her kiss, her touch.

 

God, he’d have given _anything_ to kiss her again.

 

He closed his eyes, and crumbled into ash.

 

*

 

Quill was not a believer, even after finding out he was literally an immortal god for the briefest of times, he had lost too much in his life to think there was any kind of deity out there worth believing in.

 

So when he awoke in his old family home, he was naturally confused.  He clambered out of the oversized bed, noticing that he was still in his full Ravager garb.

 

_“What the…”_ he murmured under his breath, running his hand through his hair.

 

After a moment, he headed downstairs, noticing that the house was completely empty.  A chill of loneliness fell over him, yet he tried to ignore it.

 

He walked outside, breathing in the fresh air before he noticed something that completely took his breath away, like a bullet to the chest.

 

Standing there at the bottom of his garden, still as angelic as ever, was Gamora, her green skin practically glowing in the sunlight.

 

Without hesitation, Quill ran over and threw his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder as he began to weep, _“I-Is it--?”_

 

“It’s really me, Peter.” she replied.

  
Peter cried, “I-I thought I _lost_ you!  Y-You were--” he pulled back suddenly as the realisation hit him, only to see that there were tears sparkling on her cheeks too, “Wait…” he whispered, stepping backwards from her, “This isn’t real.  You died.”   


_“So did you.”_ she murmured, sniffling, “Peter, you shouldn’tve gotten so mad.  The plan--”   


He retorted, “Losing _you_ was never a part of any plan.  Never will be.” he crossed his arms, “And I’m just glad that I was one of the people he killed--”   


_“Don’t say that.”_ Gamora’s interjection was more of a plea than a warning or demand, “Your life isn’t worth mine.  The things I did for Thanos…”

 

Quill shook his head, “I never judged you for.  We’ve all done some shit. Guess it doesn’t matter now.”  


_“Peter…”_ she murmured, her voice inflicted with sadness.

 

He stepped forward and cupped her cheek, explaining, “Gamora, where I was, you were _dead._ I lost you, okay?  I couldn’t even give you your final wish, you were murdered by Thanos in a so-called ‘sacrifice’ and I--” he broke off with another sob, not caring how pathetic he looked as he struggled to speak, “I just… I love you _so so_ much and I cannot live without you.”   


_“Oh, Peter…”_ she whispered, her voice sweet and soft as she pulled him into a tight embrace, both sobbing at the experience of losing one another, “I love you too.”

 

They pulled away after what felt like hours, both of their tears now dried as they pressed their foreheads together.

 

_“I can’t believe this is our lives…”_ Gamora admitted, “What Thanos did to my planet, I couldn’t bear him doing it to another.  I suppose it was all for nothing, though.”   


An unfamiliar voice spoke, _“Not necessarily.”_ and the duo turned to see a group of people approaching, all in various uniforms and outfits.

 

“Who are you?” Quill asked.

 

The woman replied, “My name is Wanda.  Wanda Maximoff.”  


“She’s with us, don’t worry.” Stephen Strange said as he made his way to the front of the crowd.

 

Quill sighed and pulled back from Gamora, “So, _you’re_ here.  Thought this was _my_ heaven?”

 

“It’s sort of… _shared.”_ Strange replied, crossing his arms, “Although I’m not particularly pleased about being dead.”   


Someone else spoke, and Quill froze, _“Trust me, neither am I.”_

 

An all-too-familiar blue alien departed from the crowd, giving a sly grin, only for that grin to fade when Quill ran over and jump-hugged him.

 

_“Yondu, you son of a bitch!”_ Quill laughed heartily.

 

He felt Yondu clap his back gingerly before replying, “It’s me, son.” and when Quill pulled back, he was immediately slapped upside the head, “And what’chu think you’re doin’, boy?  Gettin’ yourself killed? Didn’t I teach you not’in’?”

 

“Sorry,” Quill looked down, sadness filling his eyes, “I just… I got lost.”

 

Someone else took his hand, and he looked up to see a pair of eyes he hadn’t seen since he was eight years old.

 

_“It’s okay, my little Star Lord.”_ his mother’s voice whispered.

 

He enveloped her in his arms.

 

*

 

Later on that day (or however time worked where they were), Quill gathered with the rest of the fallen Avengers (or Avengers adjacent, as Loki had _refused_ to be called one of ‘Earth’s Mightiest Rejects’, the reason which Quill didn’t understand _at all)_ in his old family home.

 

He noticed that not everyone looked as happy as he felt; in particular, Spider-Boy, or whatever he was called, looked miserable and scared.  Quill tried to ignore the fact that the kid was only seventeen and had been killed, possibly because of his own mistake, the fact that he hadn’t been able to control his own anger.

 

His rage had blinded him, and he could feel himself tensing up, only for Gamora to take his hand and gently squeeze, quelling any unrest in him.  His mother was leaning into his other side, and Yondu on her other side, holding her hand.

 

If he wasn’t so tired, he might have made a quip or rolled his eyes.

 

He looked over at Drax, Mantis and Groot, feeling immense guilt that he may have been able to stop Thanos before killing everyone.

  
Still, that nagging voice in his head said that holding Gamora’s hand once more was worth it, however.

 

A man with a regal posture stood up and broke the silence, speaking with an accent that sounded vaguely familiar, “We need to figure a way out of this place.”  


“I don’t know if you know this, Your Highness, but we aren’t exactly in a hostage situation.” Strange snarked, “We’re dead, asshole.”  


The man looked affronted, but instead of punching Strange or lashing out, internalised it with grace and poise, “Call me T’Challa.” he requested, then continued, “Look, my people believe in an ancestral plane, where we all go after we die.”  


“Yeah, that’s where we are now.” Strange said, “And I don’t like facing ghosts any more than you do.” he narrowed his eyes when T’Challa looked confused, “I saw you with your father and Erik when we arrived.  Wasn’t Erik a mass murderer?”

 

T’Challa nodded, “Yes, but his intentions were not malicious, so he ended up here.  Whose ghost have you been seeing, Mr. Strange? Yes, I know who you are.”

 

“One, it’s _Doctor._ I earned that title.” Strange began, “Two, it isn’t your business.  Three, we’re dead anyway, get used to it.”

 

Wanda spoke up, “I don’t want to leave.  My brother, my father… my _family._  They’re here.”   


Quill looked at the young woman, who looked so tired and broken and he couldn’t imagine everything she had suffered through.

 

“Well, if you _like_ being dead, that’s your prerogative.” Loki snarked, “But I’d much rather be alive.”   


The one called Sam shushed Loki, then took Wanda’s hands, “Wanda, _we’re_ family.”

 

“ _Please_ , I was always just a weapon to everyone.  Vision was all I had left, he understood me.” Wanda sighed, “Now, he’s not even here.  I suppose androids don’t go to heaven.”

 

Sam shook his head, “I’m sorry, Wanda.”  


“It doesn’t matter.” she said, her voice trembling, “H-He was just a silly robot, right?” her hands began to shake, her eyes filling with tears.

 

Sam wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close, “It’s okay, Wanda.”  


“Steve…” Bucky began, “I can’t just leave him.” he laughed faintly, “Stupid kid won’t last five minutes without me.” he looked down sadly, “We’ve already lost one another before.  I just… we gotta hope they can do something.”  


T’Challa nodded, “I have a sister I must return to.  A _family.”_

 

_“I am Groot.”_ Groot sounded exceptionally saddened, and Quill _knew_ he was talking about Rocket. 

 

Loki looked confused, “Okay, what is with the tree?”

 

“That’s my twig friend.” Yondu hissed, sounding almost threatening.

 

Loki looked confused, “Okay.  Your twig. Completely normal.”

 

“So what do we do?” Strange asked, “Wait until they can reverse the effects of the Infinity Gauntlet?”

 

Quill spoke without thinking, “Maybe I don’t _want_ it reversed.”

 

“What?” Peter Parker stood up suddenly, “You’re kidding, right?  You know, some of us have family, _lives,_ people we love.  I am _seventeen_ years old, I don’t wanna die, and you?  You’re selfish.”

 

Quill snapped back, “Damn right I am.” he got up and stormed upstairs.

 

_“Peter--”_ Gamora called after him, only for Meredith Quill to interrupt.

 

She encouraged, “Go after him, sweetheart.”

 

Of course, Gamora did, running upstairs to see him sitting on his bed, rubbing his temples with frustration.

 

_“Peter--”_

 

He interjected, “Look, I don’t care if it’s selfish.  I just… I don’t want to live again, not when nearly everyone I love is here.”  


“Stand up.” she commanded, offering her hand, “I want to dance.”  


Quill looked confused, “Is now _really_ the time?”

 

“Of course it is, Peter.” she walked over and turned on his cassette player, the chords of _Elvin Bishop’s Fooled Around And Fell In Love_ beginning to ring out.

 

She walked back over to Quill and offered her hand once more, only this time, he took it.  She led him up and the two fell back into their familiar dance, gazing into one another’s eyes.

 

_“Remember this song?”_ she murmured, her eyes darting up and down his face, “It was the first one you ever shared with me,” she allowed him to spin her under his arm then returned to his hold, “I think…” she swallowed thickly, “Honestly, I think that’s where it began with you and me.  This unspoken thing.”

 

He stated, “Technically, it isn’t unspoken anymore.”  


“Perhaps.” she acknowledged as they swayed, “But that first dance, it was the beginning of our journey, where I began to fall in love with you.”

 

He tilted his head, _“Really?_ ‘Cause I seem to vividly remember you threatening me.”

 

“Yeah, well…” she smiled, “I thought you were a scoundrel, who was only out for himself.”

 

Quill asked, “And now?”  


“You’re still a scoundrel,” she laughed softly, “But you’re a good man, Peter Quill.”

 

Quill gave a small smile, “I love you.”  


“I love you.” she echoed, cupping his cheek.

 

His eyes wandered down to her lips and he urged to kiss her, but the fear of her slipping through his fingers once more caused him to hold back.

 

Noticing his hesitation, Gamora reassured by stroking his cheek, “I’m right here.”

 

Several thoughts raced through Quill’s mind -- _but I lost you, I’m scared to do it again, don’t leave me,_ and finally _, ah, screw it!_

 

Quill stepped forward and their lips collided in a bittersweet, painful kiss, their bodies slotting against one another with familiarity.  For a second, Quill felt like he was alive again as they connected. He felt a tear roll down his cheek -- he thought he would never kiss her again.

 

When they pulled away, it was only for a brief second before they fell back together again, desperate and panting into it.  Gamora’s hand ran under the lapels of his jacket before she unzipped it, pushing it off his shoulders.

 

Piece by piece, articles of clothing hit the floor until they finally reached the bed.

 

*

 

Meanwhile, downstairs, Strange groaned, rubbing his eyes, “Dear God… they’re fucking, aren’t they?”

 

Drax suggested, “I could check--”

 

_“No!”_ Yondu and Meredith cut him off.

 

Yondu then yelled, “The hell is wrong wit’chu?”

 

_“What?”_ Drax shrugged, completely oblivious as usual.

 

*

 

Some time later, Gamora and Quill laid in the afterglow, Quill’s head resting on Gamora’s stomach as he tried to catch his breath.

 

_“That was overdue.”_ he commented, hearing Gamora laugh above him as she carded long, jade fingers through his hair, “Who’dve thunk it?  The assassin and the thief.”

 

She commented, “It’s not the first time we’ve been together, Peter.”  


“I know, but…” his voice lost all sense of humor, “You _died._ I thought I’d never see you again.  Now you’re here, we _both_ are and I just… I don’t want to leave.”

  
Gamora sighed, trying not to think about the consequences if the remaining Avengers and Guardians (well, just Rocket), did reverse the effects of the Gauntlet.  Peter would _have_ to leave, and although she would hate it, she’d rather be dead than have him harmed.

 

She didn’t voice her doubts and fears, not wanting to ruin the moment, and instead laid there with Quill, ignoring the part of her that told her he would’ve outlived her anyway.

 

Her days had been numbered the moment she met Thanos.

 

*

  
For a time, Quill was almost happy, as for what felt like a couple of days, he and Gamora remained together, only really interacting with Yondu, his mother, Drax, Mantis and Groot outside-wise, as well as each other.

 

He almost had himself convinced that he could spend a happy eternity with Gamora in this plane.

 

_I see it.  Eternity._

 

This _wasn’t_ what Quill had seen all those years ago, happiness, life forever after.  So when Strange came bursting into his house, panting and sweating, part of him knew.

 

_“Quill,_ they did it!” Strange announced, “The Avengers, they’ve reversed the Gauntlet!  They’re bringing everyone back!” he shot Gamora a saddened look, “Everyone who died at the hands of the Gauntlet, anyway.”   


Quill got to his feet, crossing his arms, “No.”  


“What do you mean, no?” Strange asked, “We can _live_ again!”   


Quill shook his head, “That?  That is _not_ living.  I refuse.”   


_“Peter--”_

 

Quill interrupted Gamora, “I am _not_ leaving you!” he looked at Yondu and his mother, both of whom looked saddened, “I can’t!”

 

“Peter, please.” Gamora got to her feet, walking over to Quill only for him to pull away from her touch, “People _need_ you.  Drax and the others.”   


Quill’s voice cracked, “But I need _you._ I can’t do this without you, Gamora.”

 

“Yes, yes you can.” she cupped his cheek, “We’ve been living on borrowed time and these past few days have been the best of my entire existence, but you still have a life to live.”  


Quill’s eyes filled with tears, “You _are_ my life.”   


“And you are mine, but our paths have diverged, mine has ended.” she took his hand, “I love you.  I will _always_ love you.”   


Quill shook his head, “I can’t go.”

 

“Yeah, you can, boy.” Yondu’s voice spoke, and he and Meredith both stood up, “You still have plenty to do.”

 

Meredith nodded, “Yes, my beautiful boy.” she walked over and kissed the side of his head, “You still have some adventures left, my little Star-Lord.”  


“I can’t do this without you guys,” he whimpered, sounding young and vulnerable all of a sudden, “I just-- I’m weak.  I’m not a good leader!”  


Yondu disagreed, “You are a great leader, boy.  And’chu have friends, family who need protecting.”

 

Quill sighed shakily, then threw his arms around his mother’s small form, breathing in her sandalwood scent for the last time before hugging Yondu, who smelled of whiskey, just as he had in life.

 

“I’m gonna miss you, you big blue bastard.” Quill said as he pulled away, “And you, mom.”

 

Meredith smiled, attempting to hold back her tears, “I love you, son.”

 

“We should go.” Strange urged, “I’m not sure how long they can hold it for.”

 

Quill gave a nod, then turned to Gamora, “Come with me?  To the portal, I mean.”

 

“Of course,” she agreed, taking his hand.

 

*

 

When they arrived, Quill was surprised to see Wanda there next to a man he assumed was her brother, “Thought you were staying behind?”

 

“Turns out I have some things to live for.” Wanda admitted, “You?”

 

Quill shrugged, “I don’t know.”

 

Wanda hugged the man, whispering something that sounded like a farewell and wiped away her own tears as she pulled away from him, heading to the portal and walking into it.

 

“It’s just us two to go.” Strange said, “They dealt with the civilians in one go, now just us left.”

 

Quill requested, “You go first.”

 

“See you on the other side.” Strange nodded, then disappeared into the portal.

 

Quill turned to Gamora once they were left alone, “I don’t want to go.”

 

_“Peter--”_   


He interrupted, “No, I-I-- I can’t…” his eyes filled with tears, “I can’t just leave you here.  It isn’t fair!”

 

“It isn’t, no.” she cupped his cheek, “But I’ve made my peace with it.” she pressed their foreheads together, “And I’m okay.”

 

His breath shuddered, _“I’m_ not.”

 

“I know, but you have to promise me you’ll live, for me.” Gamora pleaded, her eyes filling with tears.

 

“I promise,” he murmured, “God, I’m gonna miss you.  I love you so much.”  


“I love you too, Peter Quill.” she said, then led him down into a kiss.

 

The kiss was lingering, passionate, neither one wanting to let go but knowing the tragedy of the fact that they had to.

 

When they pulled away, both were crying and Gamora whispered, “Keep dancing for me.”

 

“I’ll dance twice as hard, baby.” Quill replied, then pulled away, closing his eyes as he headed towards the portal.  Under his breath, he mumbled, _“Don’t look back, don’t look back,”_ in a repeated mantra until he heard the sound of something beginning to close behind him.  

 

Quill’s eyes flew open and he turned around, catching one last glimpse of the woman he loved before they were separated forever, the portal closing in front of him.  The grief hit him like a freight train, toppling him to his knees as he released a ragged sob, _“Gamora…”,_ he wept her name.

 

He felt Drax clap his shoulder, understanding the grief he was going through, having lived through it himself and after a second, Quill managed to look around him for a brief moment before ducking his head and crying once more.

 

Wanda was hugging a mysterious blonde woman, both of them crying softly into each other’s shoulders whilst Bucky was hugging a man who looked curiously like Captain America.

 

The other Peter was clinging onto Tony, who was hugging back with desperation and T’Challa embraced his sister.

  
After a while, Strange came to sit on one side of him, whereas Thor sat on the other.

 

_“I’m sorry,”_ Thor said softly, “I heard what happened.”

 

Quill wiped his face of tears, but more kept coming, so much so that he was frightened the human body could produce so much tears.

 

_“I saw your brother.”_ Quill announced after a while, “He was a bit of an asshole.”

 

Thor nodded, “Yes.” he teared up, “That’s Loki, alright.”

 

“So, what now?” Strange asked, “What do we do?  I have no Time Stone to protect.”

 

Quill snarked, “Well, you could work on your pompous super-sorcerer thing.  Become a sorcerer mega, or-- or supreme!”

 

“The Sorcerer Supreme.” Strange stated, “You think?”  


Quill looked confused, “Dude, I was kidding.”

 

“It’s an actual thing.” Thor acknowledged, “Well, as for me, I’m going to try and find if any Asgardians survived.  My dear friend Brunnhilde managed to escape with a few before Thanos attacked, so I must find her.”  


Strange nodded, then turned to Quill, “What about you?”

 

“I don’t know.” he looked down, “Figure things out, I guess.  Try and make this team work without her. Don’t know if I’ll succeed, but…”

  
Nebula made her way over with a saddened look on her face, “Was she happy?  In that world? My sister, I mean.”

 

“Yeah.” Quill nodded, “Hey, Nebula?” at her curious head-cock, he asked, “You wanna stick around?  Since Thanos is gone, you can stay with us for a while.”

 

Nebula considered it for a small second, then nodded, “I accept your offer, Peter Quill.” then turned on her feet.

 

“She is a bizarre one, isn’t she?” Thor asked.

 

Quill nodded, “You have _no_ idea.”   


He looked down at the ground and heaved a heavy, shaking sigh before getting to his feet, his heart still shattered in his chest, but for now, he was able to breathe, able to move.  He had to. He had promised.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Infinity War ended me, my poor babies Starmora.
> 
> leave kudos/comments and follow my social media:
> 
> twitter: steelatoms  
> tumblr: bisexualseg-el  
> instagram: poison3dy0uth  
> wordpress: queergeeksblog


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